Made to be Broken
by Saskya-Amant
Summary: They came and they killed and she left by their side. They made her into them and she stayed alive. And now she seeks revenge on all those inside. And when it's all over she'll learn how to cry. Hermione has to break herself in order to save herself... and everybody else. [eventual HG/SS]
1. Prologue Pt 1 - Girl from Memory Planet

**Prologue - Girl from Memory Planet**

* * *

_"They came and they killed, _  
_and she left by their side. _  
_They made her into them, _  
_and she stayed alive..._

_This is a story about a little girl, _  
_she never wanted to die..."_

- Hania (_Girl from Memory Planet_)

* * *

"Miss Granger." A hand reached out in front of her. Old and wrinkled, but powerful with a long forgotten elegance.

Hermione looked down at her own hands, the time turner Professor McGonagal had given her at the start of the year gripped tightly between her fingers turning her knuckles white.

"I know this must seem like a punishment Miss Granger, but it is simply for the best." The headmaster's voice rolled over her like honey, she had a suspicion there was magic laced within his words. He smiled indulgently at her as she slowly let the golden chain slip through her fingers to rest in his outstretched hand. The headmaster laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder giving it a small squeeze, before turning to place the gold orb in a black ornate box. He waved his wand in an unfamiliar pattern above the box, Hermione watched as a design started to crave itself into its surface. Wards, her mind supplied.

"Have you given any thought into which subjects you wish to continue on with next year," the headmaster said over his shoulder as he placed the box on one of the numerous shelves decorating his office walls. "With your condensed timetable I know the Professor's are anxious to see which of them made the most lasting impression on the brightest witch of her age," he continued turning around to face her, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Hermione inwardly cringed at the title pushed on her and the pressure that came with living up to it. The headmaster must have noticed how Hermione was unsure of her choices, as he chuckled to himself returning to sit behind his desk looking at her over his steeped fingers.

"It is not something to cringe at Miss Granger, there are many here that wish for your natural talent. You have earned the title, do not dim your light for fear of others seeing you shine too bright. You are the beacon in the dark for those around you, you guide them along their journey." His gaze suddenly turned serious as they seemed to try to pierce through something she couldn't see. It scared her that it was her he was looking at so intently, as though there was something within herself only he could see. "Always remember that Miss Granger, not matter what happens."

She frowned at his words. "What do you mean sir?"

The headmaster gave her a small smile, and she thought she saw a flash of sadness pass through his eyes. "We are not the master of our fates Miss Granger, not matter how hard we try to believe that, all we control is our actions and how we use them in regards to those around us. Remember my words Miss Granger, you will understand them one day. Now," in the blink of an eye the man before her was back to the quirky headmaster she had known for years, "I think it is time for dinner I am positively famished."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, "Yes, sir-"

* * *

A dense fog started to appear covering the floor, crawling up the walls and furniture. Slowly wrapping itself around the two figures in the office oblivious to the smoke. Eventually nothing could be seen of the room but the grey tinted fog that churned and twisted as though a living creature. Then just as suddenly the fog started to thin out, the outline of the room could be seen again though it had changed from what it once was. There were stairs off to the right, it wasn't a room, a hallway.

The floor was the first thing that came into complete focus as the fog floated up into the ceiling out of view. There were wooden floorboards, chestnut in colour, buffed and polished to the point where you could almost see your reflection. As the fog swept further away, images of clashing colours started to appear along the floorboards. And with a snap of an unknown sound the fog was gone and thoughts returned as though nothing has happened.

* * *

It almost looked like a bird smeared across the floor from people walking aimlessly through. It wasn't as thin as water so it didn't run as much, but in her mind kept its shape as another boot was placed over where the heart should have been.

Blood.

It was everywhere, but she felt at the same time there wasn't enough. Surely the body needed more, than could be splattered across the walls and make funny bird patterns on floors, to keep somebody alive. Every single surface should be gleaming red with the amount to fill the vessel of a person's soul.

Maybe it was a phoenix. It did look familiar, with its long tail swooping down behind it. If you squinted hard, it could be a phoenix.

The defining feature had been added when a man - she recognised him, but his name wouldn't come - pivetted hard on his foot, spinning around to face the door as more nameless faces stormed through the front door of the house.

Her house? Her mind made a noise at the question, like a game show. Errggh. Wrong.

Her parents house? Again the noise. Errggh. Wrong.

A ghost house?

Ding! Ding! Ding!

* * *

A blink of the eye and the fog was back, the sound of the last ding echoing in its hollowness around the room until finally fading away. A dead silence filled the space, the fog dancing within the folds of itself.

Then a noise, small like rain, the pattering of feet, then stomping, people running.

From the center of the fog a light could just be seen, like the first morning glow of the sun just before it crests the horizon, and then bursts forth blinding its way through the fog. A train rushing along its tracks before jerking to a stop.

"Harry! Ron! Slow down, not so fast." A voice yelled and then the fog was gone.

* * *

Hermione held her side as she caught her breath, all the while glaring at the boys. "How many...times...do I...have to tell...you...my legs aren't..."

"As long as ours," Ron finished in a huff. "We know, but if we don't hurry we'll be stuck in a compartment with the twins, and I over heard them talking about the pranks they are going to test on the train."

Hermione continued to glare at Ron's worried face, as she shoved her book bag at him."At least carry this then."

"Eh! 'Mione, why do you have so many-," Ron swallowed the end of his sentence as Harry elbowed him in the stomach.

"Ginny is saving us some seats, but she said she couldn't make any promise," Harry explained, as they started walking the length of the train looking in the windows for the red headed girl.

They finally found her at the back of the train with Neville. Harry sat down grinning as though having won some small victory, as Ron stumbled in behind Hermione muttering about books, bags, heaviness and why he had to carry Hermione's stuff and not Harry.

"It's because..."

"Little brother that you..."

"Give our lioness..."

"More entertainment..."

"With your grumbling." The twins finished together from behind Ron, making him spin around to face them then quickly back to Hermione with wide eyes.

"Is that true?" Ron squeaked.

Hermione shrugged. "Harry would do it, no words said. So yeah, I s'pose the twins are right."

"What!" Ron yelled, his ears turning red. As the twins laughed together, as though they had been in on the joke all along.

Harry and Ginny where smiling trying to contain their own laughter in the face of Ron spluttering in anger. Ron turned on them, noticing them hiding behind their hands. "You knew, didn't you? Three years of troll filled book bags flung at me and YOU knew why!"

"Self preservation." Harry was grinning while choking on laughter. "Better you than me, mate." He managed to get out between the laughter.

Ron's face turned as red as his ears as he sat down in between Hermione and Ginny.

"Hey George looks like there is enough room in here for us," Fred commented as he fully entered the compartment.

"If Neville doesn't mind squishing down," George added, around the groans trying to be stifled by the other occupants.

Harry stopped laughing as the twins sat down on either side of him. He sent a pleading look at Ron, who gave him an evil look.

"Better you than me mate, remember," He said through his grin.

Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Ron couldn't contain their laughter as the colour drained from Harry's face as the train jerked into motion.

* * *

The fog didn't linger this time, it appeared quickly and hung in the air for a few seconds and then just as abruptly started to thin out making it look as though rain was washing it away. It lasted long enough for the first thought to overlap with the fading sound of laughter.

* * *

Acidic metal. She didn't understand how that could be a smell, she had thought long and hard on it but that was all she could come up with.

Acidic metal.

It swarmed her senses like an ocean crashing down on her, wave after waver. No matter how hard she tried the smell never faded.

Too much, too everywhere, too red, too blood.

Eyes. Red eyes, that's what she thought next. She knew her mind had missed a step. It felt like she had read two chapters of a novel and then skipped to the middle. She didn't know what was going on, but she must have read the book before and forgotten, as it still made sense though the details were fuzzy.

'Too much, too everywhere, too red, too blood. Eyes. Red Eyes.' Her mind repeated.

* * *

The fog was not gentle this time round. It pushed its way in, leaving no space empty until all there was was the grey tinted smoke pressing against everything. A voice started yelling over and over again banging against the confinements of the fog as though they were walls and finally it broke through.

* * *

"Darls! Darls!"

Hermione's feet thumped down the stairs, loudly one at a time letting her Dad know she was coming to his call. She swung round the door frame and was rewarded by the sight of a beautifully decorated cake in cream, with strawberries and peppermint scattered on top. Her mum started slicing into the cake the moment Hermione entered the room.

"Happy belated birthday darls," her dad said, smiling at her as he pulled her into a tight hug. The smell and feeling of home enveloping her.

"I just can't believe you're fourteen already," her mum gushed while she plated up three servings of the cake.

Hermione looked at her mum over her father's shoulder. "Mum, in a couple of months I'm going to be fifteen," she chastised.

Mrs Granger put the knife down on the table with a bang, from Hermione's view she could see that her hands where on her hips reminding her of Mrs Weasley.

"I know that young lady, I'm just annoyed that I miss so much of you growing up now."

Her dad chuckled against Hermione's hair before releasing her as she sighed at her mother. "Miss what? I'm still the same as I was last year," Hermione tried to reason.

"You may think that, but you're not. Besides it does something to a mother to not even be able to see her daughter eat some cake on her actual birthday," her mum snapped.

Her dad noticed the beginning of the yearly argument of why Hermione went to Hogwarts and tactfully changed the subject. "So how were classes this year? Did you keep your grade average?"

Hermione smiled and felt the tension leave the room as Mrs Granger handed out the cake as she explained how Professor Lupin had given her the title of brightest witch of her age and how the headmaster had found out about it and told her to be proud of it.

* * *

The fog crept its way into the family scene, first blotting out the sun surrounding the kitchen in shadows that struck out in harsh angles. As it engulfed the room it zeroed in until only the delicate sound of a girls voice could be heard and then it too was swallowed by the fog.

* * *

A buzzing noise filled her ears like a hive of bees. She had to strain to make out where the sound was coming from. People, there were people arguing. They didn't know what to do. No. They did, they couldn't agree on what to do.

A woman was throwing her hands around in the face of the man she couldn't name. Pale ghost hair, but no name.

The woman wanted to kill someone.

Not enough. She thought. Not filled, not satisfied. Her mind was giving her riddles she couldn't solve.

She watched as the nameless man stood still, regal, elegant. Simply waiting for the raving woman to stop.

He didn't want to kill. No. He didn't mind killing, didn't mind it when appropriate.

So much, red everywhere, everywhere red. But not enough. Should be more. Her mind produced more riddles.

He didn't want to anger someone. Father? No. Brother? Teacher? No. Friend? No.

Master.

He didn't want to anger his master..

No more killing or anger master.

Her brain was finally cutting and pasting the meanings together. There was something the woman knew not. But the nameless man did, he had been informed, he was the first hand. No. He was the right one. No. He was the right hand. Yes.

He was the right hand to master, the woman was not. She was not informed. She was not to question.

There would be no more killing for now.

Her mind whirled, who was there left to kill. She could think of no one.

So much, red everywhere, everywhere red.

* * *

There was no fog this time, instead an inky blackness framed the room like the jaws of a beast getting ready to snap them shut on its prey. And just before they closed forever the nameless man turned and faced her, a look on his face she couldn't interpret and then darkness.

* * *

Time. Punishment.

Blood. Bird.

Innocence. Laughter.

Red. Eyes.

Family. Love.

Kill. Master.

Bird...? Her memories where so jumbled she couldn't even remember the symbolism she had attached to them, to help her not forgot. It would be so easy to forget. So easy to think it was all made up. A dream. For all there was was darkness. How could so much light be real? But it was, she had chopped up symbolism to keep her memories present in the darkness. Always darkness.

Her memories, what were they for again...?

She pushed her mind to work and could feel the gathering of the pieces that had become dislodged. There were still some missing, but not the important ones. Not the important ones.

Memories?

Time; it had been three hundred and fifteen days of darkness. That was what time was for.

Punishment; the darkness was a punishment for being apart of the light. Surrounded in darkness he had said.

Blood; the blood had been the start of it. How? She couldn't remember.

Bird; bird? It was still lost. Bird? Next one.

Innocence; lost. She had lost it. Where? In the darkness. Maybe.

Laughter; the last thing she had heard. Someone laughing. What for again?

Red; that was connected. Connect?

Eyes; red... red eyes. The last thing she'd seen. Filled with excitement. Expectations. Hope.

Family; dead? Yes. Her parents dead. Part of the light? No, didn't sound right.

Love; not real? No, gone. Yes. No more love. To hard to find in the darkness.

Kill; connected... connected to... bird? No.

Master; connected... kill. Kill the master. Yes. No! Kill for the master. Yes! That was right.

She was going to kill for the master.


	2. Prologue Pt 2 - One Foot Wrong

**_A/N:_ **Hi, so I just wanted to give a little run through of how I am planning to go about posting. I am hoping to post a chapter at least once a week, I have limited internet so that maybe why some are a little longer than others, but fingers crossed I can stick to that. Also as for reviews the same thing applies. When I upload a new chapter I will go through and answer all the reviews (because I love them ^.^) - if you have any questions about the story and what not please don't hesitate to ask :) I hope you like this new update, as it was really hard to write. I was originally going to post chp 1 but was told there was a lot still left unsaid which made it confusing so I hope this makes things a little clear for the next chapter to come. Yeah here it is :)

* * *

**Prologue Part Two - One Foot Wrong**

* * *

_"All the lights are on, _  
_but I'm in the dark._  
_Whose gunna find me..._

_Just one foot wrong,_  
_and I'm gunna fall. "_

- Pink (_One Foot Wrong_)

* * *

Darkness, no matter where she looked - black - forever black. She couldn't remember what used to be before the tombed darkness. She had a vague notion of colours, shapes, words. The black crawled along her skin, sinking into her flesh, setting a chill through her.

Cold, she understood cold. Along with the darkness, the icy chill was her constant companion.

How long had she been her for? Did it matter... she didn't know.

There was something she was supposed to be doing, no, there was something she was missing.

So many things missing.

Warmth. Light. Food. Comfort. Safety. Stick.

Stick?

Yes, her mind screamed. Stick.

Frantic, she scrapped her hands along the ground, its ragged edges cutting into her flesh. She crawled along on her knees, hitting the walls of her cage before turning around and starting again. Her mind continuously repeating the one word.

Stick. Stick. Stick.

She had to find it. It was important. Why else was her mind acting this way?

As the word looped around in her skull, she had the sense that the word was wrong. Like she had grabbed onto a feeble description of something... something beyond that one word. Stick.

She suddenly cried out in pain, her hands flying to her head clutching it desperately. A deafening crack sounded within her mind. She knew it wasn't in the room, it didn't echo or rebound off the darkness like her piercing screams did. Her vision was blotted with white spots, the first thing she had seen besides black for as long as she could remember. A crazy smile was plastered on her face as she collapsed from the pain.

As she lay unconscious on the ground, a soft voice spoke out from within the darkness of her mind.

'Wand.'

* * *

Was she real? Was this life? Was this death?

She couldn't remember. She was losing her thoughts. If she had thoughts, then surely she was alive then. Her hands scrapped along the stone floor, her fingernails catching, snagging against their rough edges.

Pain.

She felt pain, she must be alive. You wouldn't feel pain in death would you?

She panicked, her eyes growing wide at the thought. You don't feel pain when your dead. She vehemently told herself. She had to believe that.

Pushing the gut twisting thought aside, her mind grasped onto the next errant thing that popped into her head.

Why was she here? Why darkness? Where did everything go? Was she blind?

She blinked, nothing changed. She blinked again. Nothing ever changed.

She needed a system. That sounded like a good idea. A system. She needed to remember what to remember. That made sense?

Symbolism?

Yes, that would work. Memory queues.

Where to start? The beginning? The end? The middle?

She felt her head start to hurt, scrunching her eyes shut she tried not to focus on it as the pain grew with each second. She braced herself for what she knew would happen. What had been happening more frequently as the days passed.

A resounding crack sounded inside her skull, pushing her onto the ground as though shoved from the force of it. A buzzing noise came next filling her senses, gripping her ears she tried to block it out, tried retreat into the darkness that surrounded around her.

Then suddenly relief.

She sat still, catching her breath as her mind started to work again. What had she been thinking about?

She rushed through everything.

Real. Life. Death. Pain. Death. Parents. Pain. Panic. Why. Darkness. Everything. Blind. Nothing. System. Remember. Symbolism.

Yes, symbolism. Where to start?

'Time.'

Was that her thought? It seemed foreign. Could the darkness have thoughts? No, that was ridiculous.

Time. Yes , she would start with time.

* * *

Done. See, not that hard. Can't forget to not forget.

What if she forgot the things that were there to help her not forget the things she needed to not forget?

She mustn't forget.

* * *

It had finally happened. She had gone insane.

'Strange how slowly it creeps up on you, until you don't see it laughing hysterically in you face,' she thought.

Yes, she was insane. For what else could she be but insane. No normal person would think the things that came to her. But what was a normal person. She hadn't thought to attach symbolism to that. Maybe she should now. It was too late.

But she was definitely insane, why else would she be thinking the darkness was calling her name. Its voice bathing her in warmth, instead of the sinking dread she knew she ought to be feeling.

How did it know her name?

She had only remembered it herself a couple of days ago. But the voice, it spoke it as though the word belonged to it, no, was apart of it.

A part of her mind thought that made sense. Her name was her, she was defined by the name. The name belonged to the dark. She belonged to the darkness. The dark was apart of her.

Yes, a perfect kind of sense.

Hermione.

A whispered command. Asking her to do what? What did it want of her? Was it lonely like her? Did it simply want someone to talk to?

Hermione,

Her thoughts tumbled over themselves with possible motives,but before she could grasp one the buzzing noise she was now so accustomed to returned. Blocking out any sound, she strained to hear the darkness over the skull splitting noise in her ears. She felt her eyes water from the pain and closed them, only to seconds later snap them back open when the darkness shouted out to her once more over the noise.

Hermione.

As she focused on that one word, the buzzing died down to a hum in the background as thoughts once again formed.

Hermione.

Silence sat in the darkness, tightening around her throat demanding an answer. Sweat broke out on her skin as she struggled against the force compelling her to do its bidding. She brought her tremblings hands to her face, gently wiping the sweat from her eyes before she closed her eyes again and concentrated on her breathing.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

In through the nose.

Her voice cracked from misuse as she tried to speak, it felt like razors were being dragged up her throat. "Whose there?" She tried again.

The darkness was quiet as it wrapped itself around her, crawling along her legs, slithering its way to her arms, clawing its path to her face.

A voice sounded by her ear. A whisper that shouted in her skull, crashing against the bones protecting her mind.

"Rose."

* * *

"Who are you?" She asked.

The dark gave her the same answer as before. "Rose." The same word over and over.

Never anything different. Why? Did it not want to talk to her after all? She had been trying for hours to get more out of it. Her voice having somewhat regained its normal sound from the constant question.

"Who are you?" Always the same question, always the same answer.

"Rose."

Always the same question, always the same answer.

Always the same question.

"Where did you come from?" She whispered.

"You." It breathed in her ear.

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Am I insane?"

Silence.

The creaks echoed in her brain as the wheels turned. Wrong question.

"Are you real?"

"Yes."

Right question. Answer. Wrong question. Silence.

A pattern. Logic. Sense.

She felt her mouth form into a smile. She hadn't smiled for...

"Do you live here?"

Silence. Wrong question.

"How long have you been here?"

Silence. Wrong question.

"Can you leave?"

"Yes." Right question.

"Can you show me?"

Silence.

"Will you show me?"

"Yes."

Right question.

So enthralled by having someone to speak to, she didn't notice the buzzing that sounded each time the voice from within the darkness of her mind spoke. Or the final crack that followed, splitting her mind in two.


	3. Chapter 1 - Dark Wings

**A/N:** So because today is a public holiday where I live, I decided to put up the next chapter early. Just a little warning, I have been told the original draft of this was a little boring so I have tired to make it more interesting. I didn't know how else to start the whole thing off and this is what I got SO please if it is boring just be like oh well the next one will be AMAZING so I will definitely keep reading lol :). I hope everything makes sense now with the added part 2 of the prologue. Again any questions dont be shy to ask. Also I am looking for a beta if anyone know someone who is interested. Okay here is it. I hope you like it. Tonie :)

* * *

**Chapter One - Dark Wings**

* * *

_"Dark wings are descending,_  
_see the shadows gathering around._  
_One by one, day of calling..."_

- Within Temptation (_Dark Wings_)

* * *

A buzzing sensation filled her head as she sat crossed legged on the ground, ignoring the chill from the stone floor. All her focus was on the hands trying to claw their way out of her hold. The buzzing increased sending a shooting pain down the back of her neck, as a pair of honey brown eyes stared at her, though she could see through them to the other side of the room. The brown orbs were pleading with her to let them have free will, to let them escape. Rose felt the pressure build within her skull as the internal struggle to stay in control was fought.

The other half of her was being stubborn tonight, was being persistent in her efforts. She closed her eyes, knowing she was only prolonging the pain by tormenting the invisible force. Her world now encased in darkness, she weaved her way passed the barriers, snares and traps of her mind until she found the center.

A dimly light corridor greeted her, every surface within it more familiar to her than her room outside her mind. She had created it to be a simple yet effective entrance to the hidden parts of her mind, and she had been fortunate enough that none but one had ever made it this deep into her mind before.

It was silent while she stood there, breathing in and relaxing in one of the few places she felt truly safe. But all to quickly the silence was gone, replaced by a loud noise as someone banged desperately on the other side of the one of the two doors there. She rolled her neck, as the buzzing returned though not as forceful this time in its efforts.

She took the few steps towards the door slowly, before reaching out and turning the door handle. She let it swing open by itself until it hit the wall with a bang.

The source of all the noise was standing motionless in front of the doorway, panting with exhaustion. A girl no more than sixteen, her curly brown hair hissing and crackling with anger in the air around her head. Her eyes shone with revenge while her hands were balled into fists, she did not like it when she was locked away. Ironic that the girl could be locked away in her own mind.

"Hermione," she said in greeting.

The girl grimaced. "Rose," she snapped baring her teeth. She had tensed her whole body, ready for the fight they both knew was about to happen. "Why do this every time?"

Rose smiled sadly, something she only did in the safety of their shared mind. "It is easier without distractions."

Hermione's face darkened. "So you lock me up like pet you don't want to play with." As the words left her mouth, Hermione's face softened to that of a child, losing all her anger only to replace it with fear. "I promise, I won't do it again. I won't interfere."

"You almost got us killed last time." Rose shifted on the balls of her feet, getting ready. "I can't take the chance."

And then she lunged. Hermione was never fast enough, no matter how many times they had played out this scene, she was never fast enough.

She tried to dodge Rose by stepping to the left, but one second she was in front of her and the next Rose was standing behind her, an arm wrapped around her pinning her arms to her body. "Please don't," Hermione whimpered.

Rose started to drag Hermione further into the darkness of the room. "You give me no choice." She grunted, as Hermione tried to elbow her in the stomach. "You are only making it harder on yourself."

Hermione was pushed around to face the doors, she had always known were there. Two doors. She remembered a time when there had only ever been one, and she had been stupid and not to paying attention when the second one had appeared ripping through her mind to settle down with a crack.

The door to the right was hers, there was nothing special about it, it was a normal door. But it thrummed with her magic, her strength and power imbued into the wood. This was the entry into her half of the mind she shared with Rose. It was a amicable arrangement on the inside. They both each had a door, like a bedroom and they had to knock if they wanted entrance. The only negative thing was that Hermione had made the choice to relinquish control of what she called the foyer. The welcoming area for anyone strong enough to get past all of Rose's defense. So Rose was now in control, control of her body, her actions, her future, her life.

Hermione was ripped from her thoughts by Rose shoving her forward. "Open it."

That was another little clause in their agreement, they weren't able to open each others own doors. It had not turned out pretty the first time Rose had tried, and she had never tried again.

Hermione straightened herself up, gathering all her dignity. She always gave up when it got this far, though she was starting to agree with Rose. She didn't know why she always fought, it was inevitable. The outcome had never changed from her fighting against Rose. But she guessed it had something to do with the darkness that surrounded her when she was locked away unable to breath until Rose let her out.

She knew she was lying to herself, she knew exactly why she fought. She was scared. Scared that the next time she was locked away, Rose would never let her back out. And then what would she be. Nothing.

"Open it." Rose repeated, her eyes glaring at her. "You're being childish."

Hermione scowled at that and turned her back on the body that would have been hers if she had stayed in it long enough to let it mature. But the idea felt strange to her now, in her mind Rose was the owner of the twenty four year old body behind her. Whereas she had been sixteen for more years than she had been at... No don't go there.

Slowly she reached out and placed her hand on her door, it grew warm under her palm and then cracked open. Hermione turned around to face Rose one last time, a sad smile on her face. "Be careful."

Rose sneered at the comment and then waved her hand, magic slamming the door in Hermione's face. She heard and felt all the locks and wards Rose was placing on the door, and she lent forward pressing her forehead against the wood. Sighing she closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness.

* * *

Her boots were silent as she made her way down the hall, the only light coming from the torches that hung on the wall making shadows dance across the stone. Rose could already hear the gathered mass through the wooden door. She could sense the excitement, there was a feel to the air tonight that sent her alarm bells ringing, telling her to be on guard for a few surprises to come this evening. Something big was going to happen tonight.

For who was the question.

Finally reaching the door she didn't hesitate pushing it open. She had walked through it a hundred times, why should this be any different. Rose was greeted with the sight of an ornate throne, runes carved meticulously into every surface of its stone. From her view point she could see the side of its occupants ghostly pale skull facing the expanse of the large hall.

She made her way to the corner of the hall, out of sight, in the shadows. Where they could forget, forget that she was there, forget that she disturbed their precious sensibilities and beliefs. So that they could forget that she watched their every move.

The man on the throne gave her the barest of glimpses from the corner of his eye, before directing his attention back to his followers her eyes following his, taking in the group of people in front of her. There was an obvious divide to the crowd gathered. Seated to the right of the hall were the members of the Inner Circle. Their black robes pooling around them in the finest material money could buy, regardless of if they had the money. Their eyes trained to express nothing, though she could tell some where better at it than others, as a few showed - only to those who knew what to look for - their unease at the sudden summons from their Master.

To the left were the fresh meat, the young blood, the newest recruits. Their eyes betrayed everything, their hunger for power and the delusion that they would now get it.

The voices from the left of the room quieted when a man that had been standing to the right of the throne stepped forward. He wore black trousers and a black dress shirt, foregoing the traditional robes the Inner Circle were known for. His silver-blond hair and pale skin creating the signature contrast to his attire his namesake was known for. Malfoy.

He stood straight and tall, an air of arrogance surrounding him, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as his eyes scanned the room a dangerous glint to them that spoke of his sins throughout the years. Rose watched as men and women alike shrunk away from him if his gaze landed on them for more then a passing glance.

"You have been summoned to your Master for a marking," his voice rang throughout the hall. Eloquent and clipped. "If your name is called, step forward."

There was some shuffling from both sides of the hall, as the young ones grew excited at the prospect of their name being called out. Where as the Inner Circle shifted in their seats from nerves, there hadn't been a marking in three years. Rose could understand their thoughts, trying to hide a smirk, for a new member of the Inner Circle to be elected there was obviously a hole needing to be filled that they themselves weren't doing. There would be punishment for this.

"Ezra Montigrew," the blond's voice broke through everyone's thoughts as the man stepped forward, to knell before the throne.

Their lord, their master stood and stepped down to stand an inch from his follower. His glacier red eyes washed over them all, before he withdrew his wand and the blond silently moved up and pushed the man's sleeve up. Everyone's focus was held sharply on the pair at the end of the hall, as their lord pushed his wand into the man's arm until it broke the skin and then a blinding flash of magic broke free of the wand engulfing the blood spilling from the man's wound.

Ezra Montigrew's face struggled to stay in control, as he was bathed in pain and misery, his eyes were scrunched tight but couldn't stop the tears from escaping their confines. His mouth was silently screaming, but he had enough presence of mind to not make a sound. This was his moment and it could be stripped from him in a second if he showed that kind of weakness.

The glare from the wand died and their maser stepped back. "Welcome," he hissed, gesturing for him to take his place to the right of the hall with the rest of the Inner Circle. The silence choked the group as Montigrew stumbled to his feet, trying in vain to be graceful, and made his way over to his new position with those who held their master's favor.

The Dark Lord returned to his seat once more with no explanation, no answers, nothing. His will, his decision absolute.

The blond confronted the crowd again. "Our Lord has one more making for the night, then those elected to follow him to his private chambers do so."

The Inner Circle could not this time conceal their shock as best as they had previously. The new recruits did not understand the relevance of having two new members marked and their excitement was once again palpable. But the Inner Circle knew that their Lord must have been extremely displeased with their efforts. It was a blatant warning flashing in their faces.

They could and would be replaced.

One of the blond's fingers twitched no more than a fraction and somewhere in the dark corners of her mind, Hermione was banging violently on her door trying to get Rose's attention. But Rose ignored her and the distraction Hermione was still making of herself, reminding herself to put up a silencing charm next regardless of Hermione's doubt, Rose had also seen the slip of Malfoy's and it confused her, he never showed any signs of emotion or opinion when surrounded by the mass of followers. His unconscious slip let Rose know that something was about to happen and the mass of people there weren't going to like it. Clarity hit her as he called out the next name.

"Michael Corner."

Hermione was again shouting through the door cornering her off from doing any further damage. As much as she protested and pleaded her case, everytime she could not help herself, Hermione had to act as though Rose was an imbecile and didn't understand the significance of what was occurring. Rose's anger at the girl grew with each attempt at interference, because if anyone understood completely what was unfolding before them it was Rose .

Thankfully this time Hermione was drowned out by the uproar that erupted from the younger recruits. Rose scanned the faces of the Inner Circle, they were deadly quiet and worried. This was another message from the Dark Lord, one the younger recruits simply couldn't see passed their prejudices. He was becoming desperate.

A young man, no more than eighteen stepped forward outrage clear on his face. "What is the meaning of this Malfoy?" He snarled. "A half-blood over a pureblood? A half-blood hasn't been marked since Snape, for good reason."

Every follower, new and old, knew the situation surrounding Snape, but no one spoke of that fallen follower and quickly a hush settled in the room as Malfoy focused his steely gaze on the boy. He cocked his head to the side, as if contemplating how to handle the situation, but Rose knew better than most that the moment the boy had opened his mouth Malfoy had known exactly what he would do.

The blond chuckled to himself, the sound echoing eerily around the room. "Are you questioning your Master?" His voice holding a note of humor, for only an idiot would be that stupid unless they wanted to sign their own death warrant. "What is your name?" Malfoy asked calmly.

The boy had the smarts to shrink back, if only slightly. Regret was clear in his voice as he spoke. "Pengate. Travis Pengate."

Malfoy smirked, as he turned to face his master shrugging his shoulders at him not recognising the name, before taking his place to the right of the throne again. The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow at him before looking at the boy.

"Do you believe yourself more worthy?" The snake man hissed.

Pengate struggled to find his words, now confronted directly by his Master and nodded his head in answer.

"And yet you have done nothing to distinguish yourself to my attention," he said gesturing to where Malfoy stood, his voice was bland as though bored with the interaction. "How do you compare that to the achievement of Mr. Corner."

It was common knowledge that Corner had been spying on the Order of the Phoenix for over a year and had passed along some vital information that had saved more than one life in the process. Rose rolled her eyes at the pure idiocy of the boy for ever stepping forward with his ridiculous remarks. She had to stop a sneer when she saw him swallow hard before speaking, his words coming out in a stutter.

"My blood is enough to make me a superior choice."

The Dark Lord smiled at that, it almost reached his eyes as though he was now thoroughly entertained. He leaned back against his throne, giving the smallest of nods as he continued to smile at the boy.

Malfoy reacted instantly drawing and firing the sickly green curse from his wand, before the fool who had questioned the Dark Lord could even understand what was going on he was dead.

A few uncontrolled gasps escaped those among the new recruits, as the corpse collapsed to the floor. Malfoy snapped his fingers and two house elves appeared, immediately seeing the body and hurrying over to it. With the pop of the elves departure Malfoy refocused his attention on the group.

"Does anyone else have any opinions they'd like to share?" He stood patiently waiting. When he was pleased with the lack of response, he turned to face Michael Corner. A demand in his eyes. Here now.

As the Ravenclaw made his way through the crowd, Malfoy's eyes caught Rose's. She stared down the stormy grey eyes, as she felt his magic graze the edges of her own. It wanted to pull her in but she refused, she shoved harder at the rebuff and then it was gone as he looked down at Corner, his tight grip holding the boy's sleeve. The Dark Lord repeated the process, his eyes slightly manic as he watched the spy withering silently in pain.

And then it was over, their Master stepped back and turned on his heel leaving the hall through a door behind his throne. Slowing people started to mill out, while a few gathered around the two new Inner Circle members to congratulate them.

Rose relaxed the tension out of her shoulders, as she continued to watch them all from the shadows, oblivious that she was there. She watched as some seemed genuinely happy for the two while others were already trying to use them for their own progression up the ladder.

She stayed in her hiding spot until the last person left and then stepped forward until she was standing where Pengate's body had fallen. The stone was unblemished, showing no signs that someone had just died there. Rose crouched down to get a closer look, hovering her hand over the area of stone feeling it hum with magic in her joints. There was a small flux of heat that anyone else would have missed, but Rose stopped her hand and lowered it to the stone. Using magic to find what she was looking forward, when she drew her hand back to her eyes, a tiny speck of blood was on her finger no bigger than a grain of sand.

She stood, still looking at the blood on her finger, feeling the small amount of heat it produced from the magic within it. She gave no indication of noticing the young woman that had entered into the hall, Rose's back to her. She stayed silent until the blood and magic was gone.

"Yes?" Rose said without turning around simply raising her head to stare ahead.

She heard the woman's robes as she shifted uncomfortably but saying nothing. Rose finally turned around, giving the woman the weight of her dead stare, this seemed to scare the words out of her. "Our master has demanded your presence in his chambers."

Rose looked at the woman for a second, a typical pure-blooded breeding mare, Rose sneered at the women then simply walked passed her.

As she made her way through the corridors to her destination, she tried to ignore the buzzing that was ringing in her head and ears once again. At least she had waited until after the rest of the gathering was over , Rose thought as her hands tightened into fists as it relented.

"Not now," she snapped to what would have appeared to be herself. But mentally she threw Hermione the key she was asking for.

A few seconds later a voice sounded to Rose's side. "You had a bad feeling before."

Rose had to stop herself from turning her head to look at the source of the voice frustrated at its choice to state the obvious. "Yes." Was all she said in response.

The voice sighed in annoyance. "Don't you think that maybe this is what it was relating to?"

"Not the corpse?" Rose asked sarcastically, still not looking at the transparent figure.

Hermione moved to stand in front of Rose, her arms crossed against her chest effectively blocking her path if it wasn't possible for Rose to simply walk right through her. Which she did.

"You said you wouldn't do that anymore," Hermione snapped, walking beside Rose once more. Silence reined between them as Rose glared at the end of the corridor in front of her instead of uselessly trying to hex the girl.

"You still didn't answer my question," Hermione muttered under her breath as Rose reached the mahogany double doors that opened into the Dark Lords private chambers.

There were two guards on either side of the doors, looking straight ahead, at her approach one of them took out his wand and tapped it against the door. A green glow spread out along the wood. Rose stood rigid in front of the door, she didn't have to wait long before the green glow started to fade and the huge doors begun opening seemingly by themselves. Rose didn't spare either of the guards a look as she stepped forward.

She whispered her answer before she entered the room. "Yes."

Hermione stopped in her tracks as she watched as her body controlled by somebody else disappear as the heavy wood doors shut behind her.


	4. Chapter 2 - Bound to You

**A/N:** So as promised, next chapter is up on Friday. Yeah :) I just realised I have no plans for this weekend, so maybe I might be persuaded into putting the next chapter up on the week ;) I hope you like it, I very much enjoyed writing this chapter. Cheers all, Tonie. (remember reviews are my muse's cookies)

* * *

**Chapter Two - Bound to You**

* * *

_"So, much, so young I faced on my own._  
_Walls I built up became my home..._

_Can you see that I'm bound in chains,_  
_I've finally found my way._  
_I am bound to you."_

- Christina Aguilera (_Bound to You_)

* * *

He was in an unusually spirited mood considering the events that had passed no more than half an hour ago. It made the hair on the back of Rose's neck stand up every time his gaze fell on her, with just a hint of a genuine smile.

Malfoy was present as always, his back to the room staring out the ceiling high windows, his hands once more clasps behind his back. He was the constant companion to their Master. Rose respected him for that and for many other reasons that few would care to recognise. For he was the closest anyone had ever gotten to the Dark Lord in the all the years he had held power, and yet Malfoy was still alive to reap the benefits away from all the prying jealous eyes.

That in and of itself made her show the respect outwardly that he had earned, no matter that given the slightest chance of having no repercussions she would slit his throat and enjoy watching his neck turn into a fountain.

Malfoy turned his head at Rose's entry of the chamber and lowered his head marginally as a sign of greeting, his face as blank as hers with a mixture of boredom. By doing so, he returned the respect she showed towards him, for like him she was still alive, but not because of a looming threat of having to deal with the Dark Lord if she was ever injured. No, she was alive solely based on the fact that anyone who had tried to kill her was now themselves dead by her hands.

Rose took three more steps before lowering herself to one knee, bowing her head and lowering her eyes to her master seated in his second throne. This one not nearly as ostentatious as the other sitting in the gathering hall. The few people gathered in the room in small huddles stopped their conversations as she spoke her greetings.

"My Lord." Her voice was quiet, there was no need to shout everyone could hear her clearly for there was no sound at all but her raspy words.

The Dark Lord kept his red eyes trained on her, Rose got the feeling he was seeing something he had not seen before, and the feeling did not sit well in her stomach. Rose felt the buzzing noise in her head and ears again as Hermione tried to gain access to certain parts of their shared mind. She felt cold sweat break out on her neck as she fought to keep Hermione contained, she could not afford to be distracted now by the scared little girl. She had her masters undivided attention, and that was never a good thing, even on a day when his smiles were genuine, if anything it was worse.

With her head still down, Rose only sensed when the Dark Lord raised his hand and waved it dismissively in the air silently telling everyone to leave. The people she hadn't bothered to acknowledge started to fill out of the chamber with haughty expressions plastered on their faces. Rose tilted her head slightly letting them see her knowing smirk, she was getting a private audience with the Dark Lord only a hand full could boast that feat. It was nothing new to her, but never had it been made public knowledge that she was allowed that privilege. Muttering curses under their breath they knew she would her they finally left, the heavy doors banging closed behind them. Malfoy remained by the window, having never made any indication of leaving.

Rose stayed in her submissive position waiting patiently until she heard the sigh of annoyance come from her master. "You may drop the act now."

The smirked fell instantly from her face, leaving a blank slate appearing as though no one was residing within the body the only thing giving her away was her body standing to full height and the dark glint in her eye. Power. That power was radiating out of them as she stared into the red orbs glaring back at her.

"Tom," she again greeted, inclining her head to him.

Malfoy finally turned around to face the pair fully, standing still while taking in her stance before moving to stand by his master's side. A body-guard, not that it was needed she wasn't going to do anything, she never did, she was a faithful servant. She always had been, but the message was clear she was showing too much dominance, too much power. But it was sometimes necessary to remind Tom of why he kept her around.

Relaxing her shoulders, Rose rested back on her feet while letting her hands hang loosely by her sides. It felt unnatural, but it was the act she played for everyone else and at times needed to be played by those who knew her best. It was not a good idea to flaunt the fact that your held power to rival the man in charge and his, almost as powerful, right-hand man and personal body-guard for long periods of time.

Rose found it ironic that every time she stood before Tom alone, he would command she drop the act only for it to be demanded no more five seconds later for her to put up another one. Such was her life.

Tom had watched the exchange between them with amusement in his gaze, like watching his pets fight over who was top dog. He tapped his finger on the wood arm rest of his chair, drawing the attention of the other two in the room. Both bowing briefly in a silent apology.

"Rose," Tom hissed her name, trying to make it a caress, "today you will take my mark."

She said nothing her eyes remaining emotionless, dead, empty. Nobody looking would realise a storm was brewing inside her. Her head felt compressed, from the nuisance that was her other half trying to break free from the cage Rose had placed her in for the second time this evening. But against her better judgement, she let the cage slip away, she couldn't concentrate on everything going on around her when Hermione was putting all her effort into making Rose's head explode.

"Rose!" Hermione breathed out in a sigh of relief at finally being heard. "Don't. Please don't do this. It won't work." Her voice pleading.

Tom was again smiling as he gathered his robes up before getting to his feet. He made a show of making his way to stand before her. "No one will ever realise that today will be the start of a new chapter for our side. For the Light will forever have this day burned into their brains." Tom reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders. A weary coldness sinking in passed the thin material of her shirt to freeze her skin below. "For today even their so believed saintly Hermione Granger will bear my mark."

Rose smirked against Hermione's voice ringing in her skull to rethink her plan, but Rose refused to listen to her. Her mind was too consumed with her own thoughts. Yes, today would forever be burned into their brains, but not for what this overlord thought.

For instead today, he would finally bring himself one step closer to his own death, and she would be the one to deliver to the killing blow.

"Please Rose, this won't work. You have no evidence that what you are trying to achieve is even possible. What if it isn't?" Hermione was nearly screaming in her panic. "Remember, you are doing this to both of us. I have to live with what you do, long after your gone."

Rose kept her focus on the enforced master before her, the muscles in her jaw tightening at Hermione's words. The only sign that she had heard her at all, before pushing the buzzing voice into the background of her mind. Though she could see and feel Hermione standing beside her, her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Tom's attention snapped into high focus as Rose's expression changed. "You are pleased with my decision?" He asked, a hint of smile returning.

She let her smirk drop her face turning back into its blank slate. "Yes," was all she said in reply as she watched Malfoy approach them out of the corner of her eye. Instead of his hands being rough as he had been on the men, Malfoy's touch with featherlight as it drifted up her arm. She had a short sleeved t-shirt on, so there was no need for him to be touching her like this, he merely had to hold her arm up in case she lost the strength to keep it upright herself when the pain hit. Rose showed no signs of being disturbed by his too familiar touch, she just stared head straight into Tom's gaze as he pierced his wand tip into her outstretched arm.

She felt the heavy drops of blood well at the point, then spill out. A burning heat seeped through her, and it had nothing to do with the magic Tom was performing on her, but magic she had performed on herself years ago. Rose couldn't help herself, her eyes tore from Tom's painfully as she watched, with a hunger she could not control, the blood dribbled down the curve of her arm and land onto the floor. Such a waste, her mind thought.

Rose saw the danger before her and quickly flung the barrier, keeping Hermione at bay, out of the way. She was immediately flooded by her voice. "I told you this was a bad idea," was the first thing out of her mouth.

Rose cringed at the reprimand. She did not need to be told the obvious right now, she needed to be distracted.

"It's just Malfoy," Hermione said not making any sense until she felt hands latch onto her shoulders. She had tried to lunge down for the blood, but Malfoy had stopped her. She could feel his smirk against her ear, she had lost control. It was unacceptable to her, but so much was happening. She could feel the magic Tom was pouring into her, it felt like a frozen knife slicing its way through her center and her magic was fighting back, the only way it knew how. It needed more magic, more power to rid itself of the foreign magic trying to take up residence inside her. It was frustrating, she wanted the power she was losing by letting the blood flow freely out of her, but she also wanted Tom's magic to take hold. She needed both, but they were at war with each other.

Rose turned her face to the side, Tom and Malfoy would think she was trying to look anywhere, but at the blood, they both understood what she was going through. It had been Malfoy after all to lead her down this god forsaken path to begin with.

Let them think what they wanted she thought, as she really sought out Hermione's face silently begging her to help. She had never asked for help before, never in all their time together. She prayed that just this once, Hermione's stubborn and spiteful side would not rear its ugly head.

Hermione ghosted closer to Rose, her eyes clearly angry, but the closer she got the more she could see the internal struggle Rose was going through, and her face visibly softened. Rose watched as Hermione panicked for a second not coming up with anything to help, then she swallowed hard and spoke.

"Does it hurt?"

Does it hurt? Fury bubbled to the surface as Rose glared at Hermione. Does it hurt? How was that supposed to help? Then like a switch, Rose felt the clashing war that was going through her. Searing heat battling against a burning coldness. The pain. She gave a sigh of relief as she smiled manically up at Hermione, latching onto the pain and focusing all her attention on it. It became her center, her grounding as her body throbbed with its intensity. And then it was gone as quickly as she had been drowned by it.

Rose quickly snapped her head back to look at Tom. He was walking back to his throne, his back to her allowing her the time she needed to compose herself. Rose lowered her gaze slowly to her arm, her eyes drinking in the sight of the Dark Mark tainting her skin like a virus. The snake coiled around the skull, wriggled slightly under her skin to remind her that it was not completely apart of her.

"It is done," Tom stated from his place on his throne. Rose let her eyes find his as he tried to gauge her reaction. His eyes hardened when he failed to read her thoughts.

"Thank you, Tom," she said to appease him.

"You are truly mine now, my deadly Rose," he hissed back at her, before gesturing for Malfoy to release her.

Rose waiting for Malfoy to comply, which he did after a beat, his hands slyly making a path down her back at his retreat. Once he was back at his position by his masters side, she inclined her head. "Draco." It was as much of a thank you as he would get, but it was enough for both of them.

She had not been dismissed and knew better than to assume that it was okay for her to leave and as Tom and Malfoy entered into a discussion she couldn't hear, she walked over to the window Malfoy had previously been standing in front of and looked out onto the hills that surrounded Tom's home.

Rose pushed the conversation behind her to the background, there was no point listening they would be speaking in code either way. While she waited out her time in Tom's chambers, she played with the new magic residing within her. Testing it already. Seeing what she could get away with.

"Is that wise, with him only meters away?" Hermione said, speaking again for the first time since she had watched Rose struggle for the first time in years.

Rose shrugged in response as she felt the edges of the magic trying to discern its shape and size. But all she was getting was the sense of rawness and razors. A warning, saying not to mess around with it, to leave it be. But she wouldn't listen, she would mold and squeeze it until it did what she wanted. What she needed.

It would take time, but eventually she would use this new connection to the Dark Lord to cause him pain.

A pain he would never see coming.

* * *

The memory tugged at the side of Rose's skull as it breached its confines to float in mid-air, its blue tail swirling around as though under water, before she motioned with her hand and it swam through the air to settle into the brass bottom of the pensieve.

Rose stared down at the beginning of her collection. It was the first of many to come, but it felt appropriate to start with this one. For as many years since the birth of her journey this felt like her true beginning, everything had been leading up to the moment stored in her lone memory. For without it everything would have been for naught.

As she continued to watch the blue twisting colours of her hope, Rose sensed Hermione return slowly piercing herself together on the other side of the darkness in her mind. Looking up from the pensieve, Rose saw her grim expression as she stood opposite of her.

"I hope you know what you are doing," Hermione said, her voice soft as she gazed down into the pensieve.

Rose looked at the girl, only she could see, annoyed. "This is why you created me."

"To condemn myself?" Hermione asked, looking up to meet Rose's eyes seriously asking for an answer.

"No," Rose replied, saying nothing more.

Hermione gave her a sad smile. "Feels like it sometimes."

"You made me." Rose's expression hardened. "Not the other way around."

Hermione sighed. "Unconsciously."

"Never the less."

The girl looked back down at the memory swimming in the bowl. "You were meant to save me."

"My death sentence from birth," Rose answered, her voice flat conveying no emotion. The voice of a corpse. "But I will."

Hermione didn't react to the hollowness of her tone. Too used to it by now to let it effect her. "You are me, so only if I die."

"We have had this conversation before," Rose intoned, getting impatient. Lately, it was becoming a regular occurrence for Hermione to want to talk about Rose's impending death as though it was not going to happen. It was unrealistic, and it was tiring to think about from Rose's point of view.

"I'm apart of you," Rose continued on regardless of her thoughts on the issue. She dropped her hand into the pensieve and let the memory curl around her fingers. "But I'm not you.

Hermione frowned and had to restrain herself from stamping her foot. "For Merlin's sake, no matter how many times you say it, that doesn't make any sense," she said as she raised her transparent hand to her face, rotating it around as she felt the tingling of the memories residue magic stop as Rose withdrew her hand from the memories grasp. "I can feel what you feel."

"You can exist without me," Rose stated clinically, "I cannot without you."

Hermione pulled her eyes away from her hand. "You exist more than I do, nobody can even see me. For all, I know I could simply be a figment of your imagination."

Rose glared at her. "I am Rose." She gestured to herself. "This body is Hermione Granger."

"Yes, but people only see Rose now." Hermione sighed.

"You created me," Rose repeated.

Hermione closed her eyes, remembering. "To escape the darkness," she whispered.

"Only to be swallowed by it," Rose answered, turning her back on the girl.


	5. Chapter 3 - Smoke & Mirrors

**A/N: **Well aren't you guys spoiled! I am still in need of a beta (hint hint) but I am now using a program called Ginger, so hopefully the grammar is a little better than before. This chapter was surprisingly easy to write... so bon appetite! I hope you like it - cheers tonie ^.^ (oh also if it's not apparent all the little verses are song lyrics, very good songs you should have a listen :] )

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Smoke and Mirrors**

* * *

_"I've been sneaking glances,_  
_and writing lines about you._  
_What you think you can take back,_  
_are the things that will haunt you."_

- The Audition (_Smoke & Mirrors_)

* * *

The shadows made the dancing candle light hide his face, as his eyes bore down on the woman sitting behind the desk in front of him. He had been surprised when she had first led him to this office years ago, it was cramped, drafty and dusty. He had recognized instantly, that this wasn't the woman's real office but a decoy. How he knew this? He had done the same thing himself, when he had been required to have meetings with some less than trustworthy. He had to keep the sneer off his face, for he had also realized in that moment that he had been lumped into the same category he had put common thieves and Ministry rats in. It made him feel dirty, and he was anything but dirty.

As he gazed down at the woman, he saw that she looked older than the last time he had been here. Weeks stealing years from her. Maybe she would be dead soon, he thought to himself. He had to suppress the smirk that wanted to spread across his face then at the thought. He had to control himself here, there would be no remorse felt towards him, if he was left in the grave he had crawled from. A grave he dug himself into, he thought bitterly. It would be far deeper now that he had come here all those years ago.

Not even looking up from the papers spread across the desk, a system of organization only she could understand. "Report," she barked.

His back stiffened from the obvious command, his grip on the chair next to him - that hadn't been offered to him - tightened as he forced a small grin on his face.

"Minerva, always such lovely manners," he drawled, continuing on before she could reply with anything but the pursing of her lips, "I have two pieces of information you will find positively fascinating. Michael Corner has been marked, I would be careful around that one now." He scowled now as his thoughts went passed what he had said.

Still not looking at him, Minerva gestured for him to continue. "I do not have time for your inner monologues," she spat.

His scowl deepened, but did as requested. "Obviously, he has been passing information more valuable than I had originally thought."

Minerva chuckled to herself, it wasn't a nice sound. "Only just realizing this now are we?"

"Rose has been marked also," he hissed, successfully disarming Minerva as her head snapped up to stare at him shocked. He patted himself on the back, for a fine piece of Slytherin tactics.

The professor quickly schooled her face into a stony expression, but her eyes still betrayed her inner pain. "When?"

He gestured his hand about aimlessly. "A couple of weeks ago."

"How many?" Her voice sharp.

"Six." He shrugged.

"It took you that long to get this back to me?" Minerva snapped, getting to her feet, her hands resting on the desk.

"It was not that easy to get away. The Dark Lord has been most attentive to his followers as of late," he explained, "I believe it has something to do with Rose's inclusion into the Inner Circle. He was remiss in letting that piece of information slip until after the fact."

Minerva sighed, shaking her head while raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Anything more?"

"Not concerning anyone else, but I have been watching Rose more closely over the past few weeks." He let his sentence end there, just to frustrate the woman.

He stared at her for a couple of seconds, her eyes glaring at him, her lips a thin line of annoyance, satisfied he continued. "Her behavior has changed. Erratic, some have called it. She will do things that everyone knows, her more than most, will result in nothing but pain." Minerva noticed that he looked perplexed for a second but then it was gone. "It is as though she is actively seeking it," he finished.

Minerva collapsed in her chair, no longer portraying the leader but the old woman that she was quickly becoming. "You believe she may have cracked under the pressure?"

He couldn't stop the snort that escaped him. "Don't be ridiculous. The girl cracked years ago."

Her gaze sharpened on him at his berating tone. A warning for him to remember who he was talking to. In his mind, he was thinking up countless ways to remind her just who she was talking to.

"What do you believe she is doing then?" She asked, her voice trying to belay patience and failing.

"She has a plan, of this I am certain. Pertaining to? I am unsure. But she wants to be punished and being who she is, she has only ever been punished under the watchful eye of the Dark Lord himself." He tried to sound bored, but realized he too had failed in controlling his voice. "She is generally punished for the Dark Lord's amusement, and mostly by his right hand."

"Draco." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." His face returned to his mask of arrogance at the mention of that particular Slytherin. "Ironically, he is the only one the Dark Lord trusts to have to some kind of restraint and not kill her. Ever since the 'accident' a few years back, I can understand his misgivings concerning her well-being when it comes to his other followers."

Minerva grimaced. "The irony is not lost on me."

He said nothing to that, just stood before her awaiting her instructions. The professor appeared lost in thought for a time, before she realized he was still there. Her eyes came back into focus, as she took him in fully for the first time that evening.

"It is getting harder for you, I see. Strange, I never thought you - of all people - would struggle with your role."

He brushed invisible lint from his robes. "Neither did I," he drawled, his mask bolted down on his face. But he knew his body betrayed him to her in the way he stood. Not quite as tall as he used to stand, the space around him not giving off the constant air of supremacy like the old days, his mannerisms not as controlled as he liked. He let out a harsh breath, he knew all this but he didn't care. Let her think him weak in her presence, it would do him no harm unlike the times he stood amongst the Death Eaters. It was more tiring that he had ever imagined to pretend to be himself. What a contradiction, he thought.

"I think we will be seeing Rose again soon," Minerva mused, breaking his thoughts. "Whatever her plans, I do not see it ending well for those involved from what you have told me of the girl, and from what I remember of her myself."

"The woman is not the girl," he imparted, wishing she could fully comprehend the weighted truth to his words. But until they met, there was no way she could.

"Regardless, keep your eye on her. Report back in a month, unless it is vital to return sooner," she said, waving him away with her hand. She had already turned all of her attention back to the papers before her.

He sniffed and strode out the office without a glance back. Walking the familiar halls of his old stomping grounds, he straightened his back once more. He would let Minerva see his weaknesses but not the idiots she surrounded herself with. He ignored all the eyes that followed his movements as he pasted the entrance to the Great Hall. Gone was the head table at the end of the hall and the four long tables for each house, now there were round tables scattered around the hall, varying groups gathered around them. Even he felt a pang of remorse every time he came back here, only to find it in tattered ruins compared to its glorious past. The castle itself was just as it always had been, no visual damage to be seen, but even he could sense its despair on an emotion level. Hogwarts was no longer a school, it was now a war and refugee camp.

Before reaching the gates to Hogsmeade, he stood letting the fresh air whip around his head, winding in his hair. Pulling his cloak tighter around him, he stepped out into the storm, standing in it for a second feeling the wards churning around him. He felt a pattern form in his mind, the intricate puzzle only Order Members knew how to crack, for the key was embedded in their minds. He gave the wards a second to breath before apparating through them.

He reappeared in a small holding room, two guards bowing deeply to him. Showing respect. His rightful respect. He was the Dark Lord's second. A fact the old Scottish prude should do well to remember, he thought.

One of the guards shuffled forward slightly, indicating he had a message for him. He gave the smallest nod of the head for the guard to proceed. He watched silently as the man audibly swallowed and sneered at the sound. A pathetic excuse for a Death Eater, he thought before slowly raising his hand, his wand visible. A clear demand to not keep him waiting or punishment would be served out.

"Our Master had demanded your presence in his private chambers, Sir, " the guard rushed out, hurriedly taking back his position by the wall, his head still bowed. He turned sharply on his heel and left the apparitions chamber, appearing not to have even heard the guard's words.

He strode quickly down the corridors, nodding to those who deserved his acknowledgement. It didn't take long for him to make his way through the maze of corridors, finally reaching the rich chestnut colored doors. Two more Death Eaters were positioned on either side of the double doors. They bowed to him before the one to the right reached out and placed his wand on the door, the area around the tip started turning a vibrant green. The guard removed his wand and stepped back, giving him another stiff nod before staring straight ahead down the hall.

He waited for the Dark Lord to respond, he had no idea what his mood would be and how much time had passed since his summons. If he was turned away, nothing good could come of it. His eyes never left the green discoloration on the door, his gut churning every time he thought it had started to turn red and then suddenly the doors creaked, and seemingly of their own accord started to open. He didn't let his feeling of relief show, as he slowly walked into his Master's private chambers. He let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting supplied by the few candles spread around the room. Eventually he could see clearly the scene before him.

Blood pooled over nearly the entire empty space in front of the Dark Lord's chair. The sound of someone choking reached his ears and he turned his eyes to a woman lying on the floor, staring at her hand that she had raised above her head as she lay flat on her back. From his position he could see that she had a glazed quality to her eyes, as though she wasn't altogether with them in reality at the moment. He didn't blame her for this, he wondered how she was actually still conscious.

Her skin was torn apart, bones exposed over various parts of her body, poking out at unnatural angles. The hand she refused to tear her eyes away from, had two fingers jutting out in opposite directions to the rest. She was a Death Eater - he could see her mark - and there weren't many women in the Inner Circle, but it didn't matter, there was no way he was going to recognize the bundle of flesh on the stone floor, she had been that transfigured from her mutilation. The only reason he knew it was a woman was because of the noise that kept escaping its mouth.

He took the sight of her in quickly before dropping to his knees, his head bowed. "My apologies my Lord for my delay, I only just received your summons."

He heard a ruffle of clothes moving, as the Dark Lord got to his feet off his chair and made his way over to him. His presence making the air heavy around them, sticking in his throat as he tried to breath in.

"Whatever will I do with you?" his master hissed, "you won't keep me waiting again will you?"

He shook his head, his hair swinging madly from the motion. "Of course not, my Lord."

"Good." The Dark Lord touched his shoulder briefly, indicating for him to stand. "You nearly missed our present for you. We were about to put it back together, you would have undeniably missed a piece of art."

He stood, as he listened to his master's words. "It is truly beyond any of your previous works, my Lord," he praised, "breathtaking."

"Yes, truly. But really the talent lies in another. Never have I met someone so like-minded to myself. You should be proud," the Dark Lord mused aloud, gesturing to a corner of the room nearly blanketed in shadows.

He knew who it was before the figure stepped forward covered in blood. His appearance giving off nothing but a dull boredom of his surroundings. The man slowly wiped the residual blood off of the slim blade that he held, his eyes not paying attention to what he was doing, but his hands moved with a well practiced grace and familiarity with the chore.

"You don't mind the common practice of using a Muggle weapon, Draco?" He sneered.

Malfoy smirked as though hearing something funny. "You would remove my pleasures from me. Well, then what shall I do when I get bored? Not everyone is as fickle as you when subject to the loss of their toys."

He felt his anger rising at Malfoy's jab. "Some do not do well with publicly expressing their losses."

Malfoy actually laughed this time. "Is that what you call the death and betrayal of your wife. No, I think you kept silent so as not to show your injured pride at not being the one to discover her legs spread open for the Order."

He took two steps forward ready to defend his wife's memory, when the Dark Lord raised his hand to stop the ensuing argument. As he did so, their Master's gaze flashed between the two of them with something unrecognizable in them, it sent a chill down his spine. But quickly it was gone and he turned to Draco.

"Put our dear Rose back together. It would ruin my good mood if she were to die on you," the snake man said, his voice showing no actual concern.

He watched Draco simply nod before moving over to the girl, he now knew was Rose, and flicking his wand raised her in the air to float behind him as he left. She had nearly gotten herself killed this time, he was starting to think that maybe Minerva was right and her last wand had finally snapped, no plan could come from what he had just seen.

The Dark Lord rested all his attention on him now, the weight of it causing him to pull his attention away from the floating girl. When he looked back at his master, he could see a glint in his eyes, as though he was evaluating something before he spoke.

"You don't take my favor for Draco personally," he said, it wasn't a question but a command.

He shook his head again. "I am nothing but proud of his accomplishments. He has far exceeded my hopes for him."

"Good." His master smirked, showing his sharp teeth. "Now your punishment for your tardiness."

Before he could react to the Dark Lord's words, he was withering on the ground in pain. Lucius's last thought was of the blood of his son's spoils soaking into his robes.


	6. Chapter 4 - Next Time

**A/N:** Sorry this is late, RL caught up with me. It's my Nan's birthday this weekend. And another apology for the short chapter, but I think the next one will be longer. I find it hard to flesh out chapters filled with thoughts, as I believe thoughts are fragmented and I try to keep that throughout the chapter while still trying to make cohesive. I hope you like it. The plot will start to progress faster now, I believe from what Rose has told me ;) enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Four - Next Time**

* * *

"_And I think it's time,_  
_I realized the strange reality._  
_That this life, this land,_  
_Is here and now and this person is me._  
_But I'm not gonna waste this moment next time_"

- Kina Grannis (_Next Time_)

* * *

Pain, prickling, stabbing, pain, crushing, breaking, pain, insanity...

She kept her mouth clenched shut. She never let the bladed screams tear through her throat. She had too much restraint, too much control, too much to lose. She would not increase the power he had over her. Her pain, her broken bones, her torn flesh, her dead eyes. She would give him nothing else.

* * *

Pain made her deaf to the leering voice that breathed sweet torments into her ear. She deserved this, it told her. It was his right to inflict pain on her, it reminded her.

She struggled to keep her mind settled, it was like a leaf in the wind, blowing wildly out of reach teasing her. As much as she tried to grab it, it would always just barely brush her fingertips. She couldn't focus on what was happening around her, or to her. But she knew, knew with a mind numbing clarity she was alone. Silence reined within her, for once when she screamed for the distraction.

She tried to make the silence her sanctum against the pain coursing through her blood. She saw the blackness that had tortured her for so long, it lay just beneath her eyelids but she welcomed it. It was her home. She gathered the darkness within her and spread it out to her limbs.

It numbed the pain slightly, so that it was simply background noise.

Her attention was now on the thread of grey light that had appeared as the dark had consumed her.

It was surprising to her that her center was blacker than the self titled Dark Lord's. She almost laughed at the irony of finding their connection as a result of his magic shining a light through her own. She kept her grasp on the hollow blackness, while attempting to pull the light closer to her. She felt her fingers itch at the magic she held. A tingling sensation and then it was gone. A blinding light shone into her eyes and she was in the room again, this time there was no pain.

"You should be pleased that our Master has chosen to be merciful this night," the same voice breathed in her ear, before swiftly kicking her in the back causing her spine to spasm in pain.

She lay there listening to the footsteps fade away, an anger growing inside her that she had long ago leashed.

Almost. She almost had it.

Next time.

* * *

Years of torture, pain, scars, all for being tardy, for her tone of voice, for her unwelcome presence, for simply being alive to mock them. But now that she wanted it, actively sought it. Nothing.

She would have to disobey further. She would have to question, disrespect, make herself known. Anything. She would give them a true reason to seek to punish her. She needed the silent abyss that came with the pain. The need to redirect, the need to drown herself.

She needed to be more numb than she already was. She needed to be numb so that she could feel.

She needed to feel him. She needed to feel him, so that could give him pain for once.

* * *

She almost sighed, finally they were giving her what she wanted. The numbness. The stillness. The pain.

The blackness came to her this time without being called. It felt like it wanted to help. Could it sense the grey tinted light was an intruder? She thought. Had it forgotten, that it too was not a part of her but was also forced upon her.

She didn't care, she let the darkness engulf her and immediately started reaching out for the light. But it danced away from her this time, wary of the claws that had almost snatched it last time.

A shudder rippled through her body, breaking her concentration for a second. But it was enough for the light to think her distracted and her mind wrapped its tendrils around it, caging it. It burned, and she could feel her mind withering in a new type of agony.

The light fought against the bars she'd created to trap it, abusing its confines, causing her control to slip and the physical pain to join the mental. The sensory overload created was too much and her cage dissolved.

The darkness swept away, leaving her staring at the stone ceiling of her master's chambers. She tasted blood in her month. Good. She had bitten down on her tongue, but she hadn't screamed. She never screamed.

"One day, one day I will hear your cries and it will sing to soul," Malfoy whispered along her skin before stepping aside, leaving her to their master.

As his words washed over her, all her thoughts were focused on one thing.

Next time, she would do it, next time.

* * *

Next time had just begun.

The inky darkness within her had its grip on the grey light, and it refused to let go as it battled with a a hazy red film that was clouding her vision. She had wondered when her truest regret would rear its power hungry head.

Beneath the war raging in her head, she felt her leg snap under the crushing pressure of a boot pressing down. But it felt like a cool breeze ghosting along her body, she was disconnected from herself. Fully embracing the darkness and what it had to offer.

Her hand reached forward through the red film that parted for her. Out of everything that floated before her closed eyes, the glaring redness was the one thing that completely belonged to her - as much as she had no control over it - it was her own doing, she had bound it to her very being years ago and now had to live with its presence within her. It was no intruder. It kept her alive, like the very blood flowing through her veins, like the blood it craved.

With a feather light caress, she coaxed the light towards her from the bruising grip of the darkness. It wriggled against the shadows, trying to free itself so that it could go to her. The more she tried to bring the light towards her the harder the darkness clung to it.

She realized too late, the darkness was offering her nothing, but instead taking everything.

She turned her attention to this new enemy, focusing the red film to attack, to help her. The red cloud saw its chance, it hungered for the power within the light and flashed forward colliding with the darkness like a wall. But for all its efforts, the dark repaid it in double.

She knew why, she had not fed the blood lust within her the red cloud needed in weeks.

She was running out of time. She could feel her body start to wane, a different sort of darkness was coming over her, it was circling overhead waiting to strike. Unconsciousness.

Her master's slave would steal her abyss, would take her prize away. Would take the pain away.

She needed it.

She felt herself silently scream within her head. Her outburst froze her and she did nothing but watched as the red cloud continued to clash against the wall of darkness, to no avail as the darkness began to slowly swallow the light.

The pain was creeping away and with it came the corners of consciousness returning, she could make out the blurry outline of two figures standing over her. Bleeding through them was the darkness, a black fog blocking out their faces from her eyes.

Words started to come to her, her master complementing his companion on his talents. An artist, he called him.

Next time, the thought sung out drowning out the voice with its song.

Her eyes were trained on her target, as she promised herself that next time she would win over the darkness.

* * *

The darkness was her home. Was her. She belonged to the darkness. It owned her. It was a part of her.

It was with this remembered thought that she embraced the pain inflicted on her eagerly. She breathed out in relief when her skin split open and she felt her blood leak out onto the stone floor. Normally panic would fill her at the loss, but this time the sacrifice was worth it. The warmth trailing along her skin caused her eyes to flutter closed as the darkness begun to spot against her vision.

She welcomed it, she swallowed it, she let it suffocate her.

Gradually the grey light started to shimmer from within the bleakness of her mind. A small smile formed on her lips as she waited, patiently holding her breath.

Her eyes scanned carefully for any sign that the darkness was beginning to ensnare the grey light. A slight tremor appeared in the darkness as a long tendril grew from its depths to strangle the light. She watched motionless, her eyes sharp, narrowed, calculating.

Another tremor, another tendril.

The dark had the light wrapped from both sides, squeezing, pulsing, wringing the strength out of it. The grey light blinked out of sight for a second before returning, and she swooped gathering the darkness in her arms - the red cloud already floating patiently there - she wrapped the darkness over the light, snatching bits of the red cloud as she went. Kneading them all together until only faded out streams of light could be seen just barely through the merging red and black storm cloud.

She stepped back and waited, a hum in the air around her started as the light fought once more against its twin conquers. Stretching and reforming, trying to find an escape. But she still stood to the side, only watching as stream by stream the red and black form won each little battle.

Time continued on outside of the internal struggle within her, and all too quickly the stone ceiling started to reappear at the edges of her vision. But she ignored it, her heart was beating frantically as she saw the last beam of light disappear. The war was over, the hidden pieces held within her had won. She realized she was grinning, as she fully registered the pain her body was screaming at her.

As the ceiling came snapping back into focus, Malfoy stood over her peering down at her as he vanished specks of blood off his shirt, completely ignoring the blood that stained his hands and face.

"You take the fun out of it sometimes, Rose," he drawled, his eyes showing some truth to his words.

As she went to control her features from showing her confusion, and she realized she was still smiling against the pain in her face. Which made her break out into a wide grin, a small chuckle escaping between her lips just to annoy the man before him.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her, before finally shaking his head and returning her grin with a smirk of his own. He understood.

"The darkness is my home," she said looking him straight in the eye, then raised her hand up in front of her face. She rotated it around, as she watched the grey tinted light - only she could see - bend to her will.

"I am the darkness," she whispered, as feeling returned to her mangled body once more, the pain crashing upon her.


	7. Chapter 5 - Out of my Mind

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long, the first draft was only 1500 words and that just wouldn't do so I had to go back and keep writing and now it is roughly 5000 words. So I hope that makes up for the wait. I really enjoyed writing the second half so I hope you enjoy reading it. Cheers tonie :)

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Out of my Mind**

* * *

"_But I don't need no alibi,_

_I'm a puppet on a string._

_I just need this stage to be seen..._

_But I won't be your concubine, _

_I'm a puppet not a whore. _

_I just need this stage to be seen._"

- James Blunt (_I'm out of my Mind_)

* * *

The sky was warring with itself in a battle of power among the rain and the wind. Rose blinked against the flash of lightening that tore up the darkness of the night. She stood appearing to stare aimlessly out the gallery window, that was situated in a small sitting room where most of the Inner Circle gathered when seeking an audience with their Master.

They either ignored her or didn't even realize she was there, which was fine for her purposes. Rose had her back to them, but she felt the moment someone started to approach her.

"Malfoy," Her inner alarm system stated. Rose's shoulders relaxed at Hermione's one word. She could deal with him.

He entered into her personal space, leaning into her back, his breath moving her hair as he whispered in her ear. "Discover anything of use?"

Rose let a small smirk grace her lips for a second to quick for him to notice. "Always," she replied, her voice bland, betraying nothing.

Malfoy put his hands on her shoulders, digging his fingers in enough to bruise her skin. "It amazes me how quickly they forget who you are." he was making his voice a caress, running it down her neck. She had to contain herself from rolling her eyes.

"A mudblood?" Rose said, turning her head slightly, more for him to get a better view of her than anything.

"A killer." He smirked, running his wand along her check. "How much do information do you gather, by merely standing here right in front of them? Enough to destroy them all, I'd wager."

She felt blood dripping from the path his wand was making along her skin, her chest tightening at the loss. Her concentration was split between steadying her breathing, the man behind her and the blood leaking from her body.

Rose reached up and touched the blood, bringing it to her eye level to examine. "Even you?" she said, while playing with the red smear between her fingers.

He chuckled in her ear, causing a shiver she had to repress from showing. "Ah, but you do not believe me a fool like the rest of these commoners, do you?" he spat the words about the people in the room, who held the most influence and money in the wizardry community in Britain you could find, as though the were below him.

And in a way, she thought, he was probably right. For he was not blind like them, not mindless cattle. He saw her for what she was, someone not to be under estimated. He saw the Dark Lord for what he was, a madman but with him Malfoy could inflict the pain he loved. And he saw the war for what it really was, pointless. He saw it all with clear eyes and he drank it in, marveling at its dark beauty.

"No," Rose replied, finally turning around to face him, his eyes nearly as dead as her own.

Malfoy watched her take him in, tilting his head to the side as if curious to know what she saw. But she gave nothing away and his curiosity – if real – left his face to be replaced with a nasty glint, as his hand shot out to snatch her chin forcing her to keep his gaze as his grip tightened on her jaw.

"So alike," he mused, turning her face to the left and right. "In another life, you would have been my queen and we would have bathed in the blood of thousands."

Rose let the words wash over her, not letting them sink in. She simply stared back at him as if he didn't exist. Her face programmed to show boredom as he continued to gaze at her, before moving in and pressing his cheek against hers.

"But not this life. Oh no, I have become too addicted to the sight of your body withering in pain for me," he breathed.

"For our Master," she reminded him.

Malfoy pulled back sharply, losing all contact with her. "Yes, for our Master. How remiss of me."

She looked on blankly, as Malfoy contained his anger at his obvious slip of the tongue. But she guessed that he was more angry at the fact that she had caught him out on it. After a few seconds he seemed to relax when she didn't press the matter. They both knew how the Dark Lord would respond to one of his followers assuming ownership of something that was not theirs to take, but in fact belonged to the Dark Lord himself.

Malfoy showed no outward signs of anything having happened, his eyes were hard but his thoughts guarded. Rose knew that look, it meant pain but she didn't give it any mind. He could not have her without permission, and right then he did not have it. She was safe.

"Blood." The word had slipped out, Rose bit her tongue to stop herself from growling in annoyance. But never the less she had said it. Though why should she care it had worked, she thought.

The whole time he had been dribbling on about a life that could never be - regardless of where they were now, she would never have allowed his fantasy to come to fruition – she had been flexing her inner muscles, pushing and pulling trying to fit the grey channel of magic into a space it didn't want to go but finally it had relented. His words of addiction and pain had been the trigger, the mental shove she had needed to give that little bit more of herself, and it had worked.

Malfoy lifted a finger to his face and raised and eyebrow as he saw the proof to her words. His face twisted into a mixture of disgust - thinking it was hers - and pleasure, as his mind whirled with memories of how he had previously come to be covered in her blood.

Rose's eyes narrowed as she searched for her target while schooling her face to not betray her, if he looked at her now he would only think she was reliving the same memories as him. But instead she was consumed with the smallest tear in his otherwise unblemished skin, as blood slowly trickled down his face.

"It worked," a voiced gasped in shock from beside her. Rose had to snap all her reflexes into control to stop herself from looking over at Hermione's shadowy figure. Her voice had held such awe, and all Rose had wanted to do was smirk at her silently telling her 'I told you so".

Yes, it had worked. Just like she had hoped, and Malfoy was none the wiser that she had just transferred some of the damage he had inflicted on her face moments ago on to him.

"It work," Hermione repeated, her excitement clear in to the only person who could hear her and Rose couldn't help but feel a small fraction of the girl's joy flow over her.

* * *

"Had your fun yet?" Hermione said standing to the side of Rose, as they both stare down at the mangled remains of what used to be Hawkes Hawlish and John Dawlish.

Rose shifted her gaze to the ghostly shape next her, Hermione's face betrayed nothing but a long held resignation to the horror before her. Her eyes taking in no details she hadn't seen countless times before, if anything Rose had restrained herself this night. Getting the job done quickly and efficiently tonight was key, and Hermione guessed that that fact had wormed its way into Rose's blood lusted mind. She knew Rose hadn't let herself fully enjoy it this time, the deranged sparkle to her eye had never come and the choking red mist had not intruded once more to Hermione's side of the door. The dead Aurors had been given a mercy killing, Hermione thought as her eyes traveled the path of their joined blood up the sides of the walls to the roof where droplets fell to the now red carpet, a trail of someone's disembodied internal organs sitting splattered across the desk in the room, the filling cabinet in the corner with a tongue resting on top. Yes, a mercy killing indeed. At least they had been dead when the mayhem had started, there had been no ear splitting screams this time which Hermione was grateful for.

"You could have said Dawlish got away when Hawkes 'interfered'," Hermione continued making air quotes with her hands as she said interfered. She didn't wait for an answer to her question, she knew she wouldn't get one. "Only we would have known."

Rose didn't respond just like Hermione had assumed, just snorted and turned away from the girl. She walked over to the wall closest and placed her right hand against the red slime. All the blood within the room started to omit a slow burning heat before it started to be move, congregating at the focus point of the heat, Rose's hand. Within a matter of seconds all the blood had made it's way to where she was standing, pooling at her feet on the ground and her hand on the wall. Rose closed her eyes and the corners of her mouth turned up into a small smile, as she placed her other hand on the wall and hung her head. The blood on the floor made its way up the wall to join the red snake of blood slithered along both her arms, wrapping around as it went. Her skin absorbed every last drop of blood that had been cast out of the bodies on the floor.

A hollow silence filled the small office when there was nothing left for her to take. Rose let out a deep breath and then pushed herself off the wall. Hermione watched on with a critical eye, as Rose glowed faintly with the power she had stolen from within the blood. Eventually their eyes met and a charged exchange was held between them. This was the one thing Hermione would never approve of, never accept. Killing people was apart of their method of survival but this, no. Rose had brought this on the both of them purely for the craving of power she held. No matter how much is regretted it, how much she tried to make up for her mistake, Hermione always saw the glint in her eye after she had taken what she wanted. Victory, satisfaction, hunger. Rose couldn't hide it, and it spoke only of the truth to Hermione.

Rose dropped her gaze first, for she knew what was to come next as did Hermione. Crouching down next to the two corpses she laid a hand on each of them, and the heat started again. Rose's hunger tore the remaining blood for the bodies, drawing it out from their pores. Hermione always thought it looked like the entire was body was crying and the harsh red of the tears marked the sin that Rose was committing.

When the bodies were nothing more than dry husks, Rose got to her feet and cast her hand around the room, wandlessly removing any trace - physical or magical - that she had been there, her signature was clear as day already. The corpses and body parts would remain and anyone who entered the room would know who had been there. After her eighth kill the Prophet had dubbed her the 'Bathory Killer' after the sixteenth century countess Elizabeth Bathory, who had been labelled the most prolific female serial killer in history. Rose had sneered at the name calling it crude, but Hermione thought it quite appropriate given that Bathory had been accused of mutilating bodies and had made herself renown for bathing in the blood of her victims, not unlike what Rose did. The article had stated that the countess was a Hungarian witch and was a practitioner of one of the first forms of magic. Blood magic, a form so deprived it was abandoned not eighty years after its creation. It was heavy outlawed now for its obvious downfalls, blood lust, murder, sadism. For the first time in Hermione's life, she had mused aloud that maybe they should have burned all the books pertaining to the dark matter. Rose had smirked and asked where the fun would have been in that. Hermione's mood had darkened that day, at Rose's flippant attitude to the magic that had condemned them both.

When the room was spotless - bar the blatant show of body parts around the room - Rose started for the door but stopped short at Hermione's voice, whispered so reverently it was almost a prayer, though still hollow with the knowledge that no matter what she said it would change nothing.

"He was apart of the Order."

"No one escapes," Rose replied back, giving the room one more glance before leaving shutting the door firmly behind her, replacing the locking wards on the door while Hermione was still held inside.

Rose tapped a finger on the door handle, repeating the charm she had used on the door. No one would know she had been here. After ten years, they still never did it.

She gave the empty corpses no further thought as she headed down the hall, light flooding in through the frosted glass windows of the office doors. "No one has ever escaped," Rose repeated to the silence. She heard a sigh, it felt like a breeze within her head and then Hermione was walking beside her.

"It would have been suspicious if someone did now, I know. I get it, but still," Hermione said, speaking Rose's reasoning out loud to herself.

"Exactly." Rose stopped in front of the main door of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

She gave Hermione a knowing look, that simply said that Hermione had known this the whole time. Then she placed two fingers to the marred skin on her arm, causing the snake to whither from the contact. Withdrawing her hand, a green sticky glow stuck to her fingers. Raising her hand to the door, Rose muttered an incantation and the green glow seeped into the wood. The Dark Mark now burned into the front of the door, Rose delighted to herself in the knowledge the Ministry workers would know nothing was amiss until the returned to work and stood before Tom's mark. The man himself would enjoy that little touch.

"It comes so natural to you doesn't it?" Hermione sighed, more to herself than to Rose.

Rose inclined her head slightly. "Yes." And then apparated out of the building.

She reappeared in Tom's personal apparation anti-chamber, like she always did after she was sent out to remove problem for him. Her master reveled in seeing her wearing her trophies on her body, therefore she was never allowed to remove the blood and other contents that coated her clothes. She used his anti-chambers to return as he would never allow it to become public knowledge of whenever she returned. They all knew what she did, fear alone stopped the spies from giving the Aurors her name, but when she returned someone had surely died and that information they would gladly pass on and Tom could not condone that. Everything had to be dramatic, staged. If the Order or the Aurors knew ahead of time, the theatrics of it all would be ruined, and how terrible that would be.

There were no guards in chamber unlike the public apparation spot, used by all the Dark Lords followers. Only two people used this room - besides her - and they both had a specific rune engraved into the bone that lay just under where the Dark Mark sat. It was this rune that gave the access to the room, to open the only door in or out.

Rose had not been granted this privilege, so she waited patiently as always to be released. She had once waited twenty-six hours in the stone room, for Tom believed it a suitable punishment for making him wait five minutes over when she was scheduled to report. Rose had been forced to make a detour on her return when a couple of Aurors had caught trace of her magic, this was in the early days of her career and she had quickly learned from her mistakes, regarding both the Aurors and Tom.

This time however was a short wait, ten minutes at most, and then the door creaked open and Malfoy glided in. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Presentable as always," he drawled looking her up and down.

Rose dipped her head in response, as she walked passed him through the door way continuing until she stood in front of another door a couple of meters away. She stared straight ahead, collecting and rearranging her memories to present to Tom. She placed her new version of the nights events, that would not incriminate her, among the segment of harmless memories of week to the forefront of her mind. Tom would look no further, for her real memories were hidden behind traps so minute he had never realised they were there. Only one had breached her defenses and it still angered her to this day.

Malfoy took his time to close the anti-chamber door and make his way to the one before Rose. He didn't immediately grant her access, but instead slid a finger down her shoulder making a clear path in the bloody grim that coated her shirt. Malfoy hummed in delight. "Still warm."

He dragged his eyes to her face. "You seem to be covered more than I would have expected. Run into trouble?"

Rose glared at him, her eyes steel to his probing look. "No."

Malfoy chuckled. "I will find out in a moment anyway. Won't I?" Her reached around her, blood still on his fingers as he placed his hand flat on the wood of the door. His magic chilled the air and then the door swung open on its own.

Malfoy used his hand to guide the door the rest of the way, as he gave flourish with the other gesturing in a mockery of a bow for her to enter. "Mudbloods first," he hissed in her ear as she passed.

Rose entered the room to the side of Tom's chair, which was empty. A quick scan of the room and she found him standing by his desk, a quill in hand as he bent over to quickly scribble something down. He gave no indication that he had heard her enter, but she remained silent as Malfoy took up his position staring out the window.

"Is it done?" Tom asked over his shoulder, still not looking up from the parchment.

"Yes," Rose replied.

"Good," Tom mumbled, sounding distracted not really listening to her. But she knew that if her answer had been anyway different her pain would have been immediate.

Slowly as if a bother to tear his eyes away from his work, Tom turned to face her finally taking in her appearance and his features darkened. "Explain," he demanded.

"Hawkes," was all she said, undeterred by Tom's sharp stare. He was not happy.

Rose heard Malfoy laugh. "He always was a fool."

Tom's eyes flicked to the blond before settling back on her. "I assume he is dead." His voice was harsh, a test. His mood would be the deciding factor to whether her answer would be correct. Rose was very aware that it could go either way.

"Yes."

Tom hissed, then spun around his robes flying behind him as he picked up his quill once more and made a slashing motion on a piece of parchment. "Get me someone in the Aurors," Tom ordered Malfoy once more over his shoulder, as his eyes drank in yet another piece of parchment.

Malfoy's head cocked to the side in thought. "She's only a half-blood, but I can get Amelia Devonson."

"Fine, do it," Tom said while adding the name to his list.

"Well, that didn't last long," Hermione retorted from her position, she was circling around Malfoy trying to pick up anything Rose couldn't without warranting suspicion. "For all of an hour, he had no one in the Auror's department."

Tom now content that everything had been resolved, quickly abandoned his desk and made his way over to his chair. Once seated he made a please continue motion with his hand.

Rose had tracked Tom's progress across the room, taking note of any indication that punishment for killing his spy would come. There was none, she had probably killed the Auror simply a week or two before Tom had scheduled.

That was tiresome, Rose thought to herself.

Hermione laughed, as being the only one to guess Rose's thoughts from the deep sigh she had let out. "Looks like you are going to have to work for it tonight," she said, still littering around Malfoy.

Rose ignored Hermione's barb and pulled her attention back to the waiting men in the room. "The Dark Mark has been cast, they will not see it until morning."

"And the target, did he have any parting words?" Tom demanded. He always did like to know how her victims begged, in this case he didn't beg and swore their downfall. It was an honorable death, Rose thought, not pathetic like some of her previous targets.

"Yes," she answered, not elaborating trying to provoke him.

"Subtle," Hermione shot out.

Tom's eyes hardened. "And?"

Rose shrugged while Hermione was snickering in her ear, finding it all quite funny a the anger that flashed across Tom's face. Malfoy was flicking his gaze back and forth between the two of them. His pleasure at the situation increasing with each of her answers. He would be seeing pain tonight.

"Are you having trouble recalling your memories this evening, Rose?" Tom hissed, leaning forward in his chair, his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

"No."

It was the final straw, Tom snapped just as Malfoy smirked already sensing what was about to happened. Tom lashed out with a perfectly aimed Cruciatus curse.

"I wonder if he realised who easy he is to manipulate," Hermione drawled, now behind Tom dragging a finger along the back of his chair as she watched Rose wither on the ground. It would disgust her later at the pleasure she got at seeing Rose get what she deserved, Hermione was still anger after witnessing Rose's abuse of magic. Her vindictive trait she had gained long ago, she wasn't proud of it but like all the lessons she had learned for her early years under the watchful eye of someone she would care to forget, it was sometimes necessary. Like right now, she didn't care that Rose was in pain and therefore she was able to do her part in their little scheme.

Unlike all the other times, Hermione did not retreat back behind her door. Rose had given her a job this time, it was the easiest job for numerous reason. One, only Rose could see her so Hermione could stand as close to Tom as she wanted and he would be none the wiser. Two, Rose had to fight against the curse in order to keep her eyes open, so that Hermione would be able to see what they were looking for. Three, at the same time Rose was using all her will power to transfer just a tiny fraction of her pain onto Tom through their connection from the Dark Mark. Too little and they wouldn't be able to see if it worked, too much and Tom might reseal what was going on.

Hermione ignored the slight tremors in her body, as some of the cruciatus seeped into her half of their shared minds. There were only two things they could not shut off and make completely separate from one another. One was pain, the other they didn't talk about.

Hermione could see Rose start to struggle with her multiple tasks, after ten minutes Hermione's vision started to darken. She glanced at Rose and saw sweat dripping down her forehead and into Rose's eyes, Hermione started to panic. After Malfoy she had been almost giddy with excitement, now believing this plan to work on Tom. But so far nothing.

Hermione didn't dare speak to Rose, encase she broke her concentration. Before they had switched control, Hermione had been dealt her fair share of hits from the curse. She was always amazed at Rose's control to never let a sound out - the first day that had happened, Tom had realised she had cracked and was no longer in control, he had called her Rose ever since - and today was no different.

Just when Hermione was about to resign to defeat, she noticed Tom's eyes shutter and flick down to his wand hand, before quickly returning to Rose's thrashing body. If Hermione had not been standing a hairs breath away from Tom's face, she would have missed his tell. She gave a sigh of relief when he finally dropped the curse and Rose slumped against the floor, trying to catch her breath.

Hermione walked by Malfoy on her way to Rose's side. It made her gut churn to see his eye's clouded with desire, as they stared at Rose meters away.

Rose was already climbing to her feet, shaking slightly from the onslaught. Her gaze sought out Hermione for confirmation. Hermione, for some reason, felt the need to keep quiet in that moment. To let it sink in, they had achieved the impossible. So she simply nodded and watched as Rose's shoulders relaxed before she turned to face Tom once more.

Tom gave no indication that anything amiss had happened, just leveled his gaze on his prized Mudblood, as she tried to hide the shaking in her arms and legs. After a minute Rose was once more standing at full height, her body appearing to be unfazed.

She bowed her head. "My apologises, my Lord," she said, as was her custom after every bout of pain he threw at her.

He stared steadily at her and she prepared herself for what was to come and then she was blinded by her memories of the night. It was a blur as he scanned through everything, returning to some images, by passing other before he was happy with what he saw and retreated from her mind. He sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful before his face was blank.

"Your usefulness will one day run its course, Rose. Mind yourself, if you wish to live until then," Tom imparted, before opening the doors behind her, dismissing her.

Malfoy watched her greedily as she bowed once more from the neck, while take three steps backed before swiftly turning around and exiting the chambers. Rose made quick work of the corridors, faulting once when her knee gave out. Luckily the hallway was empty.

It took fifteen minutes from leaving Tom's presence to be safely locked and warded in their private chambers. Rose flicked her wrist and halfway across the sitting room, the French doors leading to their bedroom slammed open, the glass rattling in their framed.

Once inside the bedroom Rose shut the doors, placing more wards around them. When she deemed it safe, she reached around her neck and retrieved the silver chain the hung down her shirt. A pendant rested at the bottom, a solid metal circle. There was nothing remarkable about it, it was scratched up and tarnished but she held it carefully as she pulled the chain over her head. The center of the pendant had a circle of metal cut out and when the chain was free from around her neck, she removed a plain ring that sat on her middle finger and inserted it into the gap in the metal. The pendant's magic hummed along her skin as it greeted it the ring as its companion, Rose let go of it and it floated in the air, the chain dangling to the side. Now whole the pendant started to grow, twisting and shifting its shape until a pensieve was before her. Two blue memories swimming together at the bottom.

Hermione had been awed by the unusual pensieve, that had been gifted to Rose, the first time she had seen it. She had been wary of keeping memories in a pensieve encase they were found by Rose had explained that the two pieces of jewellery had been charmed to only accept her magic when placed together. Others could try by the pendant would reject the ring and nothing would happen. Hermione was comforted knowing that any dangerous memories would now be safe, not that Rose used it that often.

Rose drew her index finger to the side of her head, closing her eyes as the memory of her punishment not twenty minutes ago came out. She stared at it for a moment before depositing it into the bowl, she then turned sharply to Hermione her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Show me."


	8. Chapter 6 - Cat and Mouse

**A/N: I apologise ahead of time, this is a bit of a filler chapter. But there is important stuff as well, shit is about to happen :) Please review and tell me what you like and don't like so far, it would be greatly appreciated. Cheers Tonie. **

* * *

**Chapter 6 – Cat and Mouse **

* * *

"_When the cat's away, _

_it's said the mouse will play._

_Oh, but this little mouse,_

_was brainwashed to behave._

_Now that cat's out of the bag,_

_and someone's got to pay..."_

- Cursive _(The Cat and Mouse)_

* * *

A long stone table took up the centre of the room, its surface rough from age and mistreatment. Scorch marks from curses and hexes could be clearly seen decorating its length. Twenty high-backed chairs sat on each side of the slab, filled with members of the Inner Circle talking amongst themselves. Their eyes glimmering with anticipation, they has been summoned for a long over-due advisory meeting, which meant one thing. There was going to be a raid. Some of the members seated were jittery at the thought, there hadn't been an attack in a number of weeks, and all the pent up energy and aggression was clearly showing.

Every single one of the Inner Circle members actions were all carefully assessed by their Master's blood driven assassin. Her eyes sweeping the table, continuously picking up different bits of information some didn't even realise they were giving away.

This time however was different to the rest, Rose was standing in clear view of everyone present. They all knew she was there and they had all shown their distaste and resentment to her position among them.

Rose had her back against the stone wall, her hands clasped together behind her crackling with repressed magic, that was just itching to be used on a number of the pompous fools that were sending her murderous glares.

This was not the first advisory meeting Rose had attended, this was just the first that her presence had been known about by anyone other than Tom and Malfoy.

They should have been feeling extremely thankful that she was not hidden within the shadows, she thought. For the only reason, in the past, that she had been invited into the room was to evaluate whether Tom's intuition on one of the Inner Circle members was correct, and that their loyalties did not lie completely with their Lord.

If she found them wanting, they usually found themselves dead shortly after.

Rose felt his magic press against the room, mere seconds before Tom burst through the door. He quickly stalked over to his chair at the head of the table, Malfoy gliding closely behind him also taking his usual spot to the right of his Master.

All the chairs were filled now, even though Rose had been marked and through that made an Inner Circle member, she was not classed as one of them, she was a mudblood. So she stood. In their minds they were punishing her, but she preferred to stand it gave her a better view of everyone before her and a better chance to catch anything they wished to hide.

Rose had positioned herself though this day so that she had an uninterpreted view of one particular Death Eater. They were unaware that their every move was cataloged and stored away. Rose had had her suspicions regarding the man her eyes tracked, and today she had decided it was time to bring some use from what she could only guess were their extra curriculum activities.

"Report," Tom commanded his followers, his red eyes scanning the table.

Around the group people started to stand and deliver details concerning varying assignments Tom had ongoing. Rose ignored this for the most part, her focus was trained on her target for any incriminating reactions that could give credit to what she thought they were concealing.

Hermione on the other hand was listening attentively, drinking in all the information being freely given to her. Rose had come up with a method of gathering all the information they could, without missing something crucial, by splitting their concentration between their two halves. It had been a time consuming process to achieve, focusing mainly on the basis of legilimency and mind magic.

The mind had not been made to receive and process information the way Rose intended to use it, for Hermione to see something that Rose had her back to was near impossible but by working against numbing migraines and vice like pain on their brain, they had finally worked out a way to achieve their goal. Magic. Through having a constant stream of magic being poured out of their shared body like a bubble wrapped around them, they were able to be hyper aware of their surroundings, like extra nerve endings snapping in the air around them. Hermione was the one to monitor the output as the sensory over-load had overwhelmed Rose when they had first tried causing her to pass as Hermione was disconnected from their – her – body it was easier for her to decipher the signals their magic was sending without it becoming too much.

Though it still left their body in a constantly unnatural state and the consequences of such was the never ending hum of pain coursing through Rose's bones.

Hermione had been quickly concerned that after Rose had done her job and Hermione had gotten her body back that she would be left in the same state as Rose, walking around in constant pain.

Rose had stared at Hermione unblinking at first, her face completely frozen before turning away. "The pain of this journey is my burden to bear," she had hissed, her back turned, "I will make sure you will never feel this type of pain."

Hermione regretted her words years later. Having watched Rose retreat to their quarters night after night and always seeing the everlasting expression of discomfort and pain on her face that she only let free in private. After nine years it had never gone away, Rose had just learnt to hide it around others, but Hermione could see it when enclosed in their chambers. She could see it in the way Rose dropped her head back on the top of the lounge chair, in the way her hands gripped the glass of fire whiskey, in the way she controlled her breathing steadying out its rhythm, and in the way she always sighed before getting to her feet on her way to bed sometimes even swaying as she stood.

It was a toll Rose had expected to pay, but now Hermione wished she didn't have to do it by herself, she wished she could help somehow. But she never asked, never said anything, she simply let Rose suffer in silence the way she wanted.

It made a sad smile appear on Hermione's lips when she thought of it, Rose's actions reminding Hermione of her old friend. They were so alike, some days it helped Hermione get through and others it brought a tear to her eye.

Pushing all the memories away, Hermione turned back to her task. She was currently walking around the table, whilst listening to the reports going on around her, when she came up behind Rose's target. She raised an eyebrow at what she saw, silently telling Rose she had seen something worth noting.

Rose ignored it for now, giving her full attention to the man who had always seemed to have had an eye on her, her whole life. But Rose wasn't blind, she had always known about his ever present gaze, what she had noticed recently was with which his eyes had gained a greater intensity whenever he looked at her. Every since she had received the dark mark, she had felt his eyes boring into her, burning into her skin.

At first she had thought he was just watching her trying to find an opening in which to kill her, but as time went on he never made his move. No matter how many opportunities she gave him.

This led her to believe he was watching her from another purpose. He wasn't watching her for Tom, this she knew, he had Malfoy doing that in a more than apparent manner.

This had sent Hermione reeling when Rose had filled her in. He was in position among the Death Eaters to be no one's lackey but Tom's. Hermione had paced for hours in their room, not seeing the obvious that was right in front of them.

Rose had seen it straight away, after she had realised he wasn't watching her for himself. But instead of relaying this to Hermione, she had just sat back in her chair, fire whiskey in hand, as she was consumed with thoughts on how to use this. Her eyes had watched the frazzled girl sweeping back and forth in front of her, her plans shifting and morphing, reforming themselves.

And by the end of the night without even realising it, Lucius Malfoy had made himself the key.

* * *

Rose stood outside the door, silently waiting while Hermione filled her in on what she had missed in the meeting.

"The Carrow's were placed in charge of the next raid. It will be in two weeks, a bit of a rush job, so there will be flaws with their plans hopefully. The location was still undecided, Tom has left it entirely up to them, which leads me to believe this raid is simply to appease the masses, not apart of his plans.

"Amycus gave the impression that he is in the mood for some younger blood, if they go muggle with the raid that could mean a school or something."

Rose nodded letting Hermione know she was still listening as Malfoy Sr. finally exited the hall, striding effortlessly along the stone floors. Rose immediately started trailing behind him, hidden beneath a disillusion charm that she had hastily cast on herself upon leaving the gathering hall ahead of anyone else.

"Dolohov has successfully breached the wards of the new Deputy Head of the Auror department's house. He believes he will have her Imperio'd by the end of the week," Hermione continued to explain, "this is what Lucius reacted to. His knuckles where white from gripping his knee, he knows Tonks is apart of the Order and high up too. If she dies and he is spying for them, they would never forgive that."

Rose quirked he eyebrow. "Finally figured it out?"

"Took me long enough," Hermione grumbled before her eyes narrowed, "if I didn't know any better I would think you were stealing my deductive skills."

Rose snorted but said nothing.

"When did you put it all together?"

Rose shrugged, turning her attention back to the blond down the other end of the corridor, if she had to guess Lucius was heading in the direction of the apparition chamber.

"You knew straight away didn't you?" Hermione frowned, crossing her arms against her chest at Rose's small smirk.

"You even look like him when you do that, along with your attitude if he could see you now it would be like looking into a mirror," Hermione snapped.

Rose's face dropped any amusement it had held, going dead at Hermione's words. She fought with her jaw to remain still, as anger worked through her system. Still Rose said nothing, stopping outside the door Lucius had just walked through.

"Four... three... two... one...," Hermione counted, rolling her eyes when Rose removed the disillusionment charm and shoved the door open ignoring the guards in the room and disapparated with a crack.

* * *

Rose stood still, her eyes glued to the castle before her in the distance.

"It looks exactly the same," Hermione whispered, drawing Rose's gaze.

She looked on at the girl whose face had crumbled at the sight of the old school. Rose watched as Hermione stood unaffected by the freezing wind that whipped harshly against Rose's face, her hair hanging loosely on her shoulders that shook lightly with repressed tears. Rose frowned at the girl's emotions on seeing the castle, until Hermione let one words slip from her lips.

"Home."

The word seemed to echo in the silence surrounding them. Rose had never been within the castle walls when it had been a school but for some reason she felt a truth to Hermione's word. She didn't like the feeling, she belonged nowhere, she had no home. Especially not the old castle that was filled with death and memories.

"How did you know he was coming here?" Hermione asked, breaking the stillness. She tried to be subtle in the way she scrutinised Rose's expression when she looked at the stone castle, but Rose saw it and adjusted her face.

She swiftly turned her back on the castle and Hermione, appearing to take in the trees framing the clearing they were standing in.

"A hunch," she finally answered.

Hermione was still facing the hills the castle sat on. "Where is he then?"

"He is losing any trails, I would imagine," Rose said, a smirk growing on her lips, perfectly in time with the crack that sounded just before she came face to face with the blond man.

"Lucius," she drawled in greeting.

As his eyes took her in, she saw confusion cloud his eyes for a second. "How?"

Rose's smirk grew even further at this. "Magic," she replied, her tone sarcastic, before her hand shot out and a red light burst from the tips of her fingers stupefying the Slytherin.


End file.
